


A Trick of the Light

by Celestos (Seruspica)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seruspica/pseuds/Celestos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet based on a request. It's been two years. Jounouchi x Mai.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trick of the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by aquaburst07 on tumblr. Kind of deep, but it was the first. Originally posted on Fanfiction as part of the 'Trinkets, Treasures and Other Miscellanies' collection.

Light, he thinks, has always had that effect on people. He had stared at the sun once, when he was only half as tall as he is now. He was told he was lucky he can still see.

The sun sets in the distance, sky splashed amber. Gold streams. _The sun,_ he thinks. _It's the damn sun. I'm seeing things._

Under the shine, her hair is warmth and fire, her eyes dark as always. He'd never forgotten her gaze, firm and determined, hard as onyx and sharp as diamond, brows pushed together in the midst of a duel she was unwilling to lose. She had been a fierce woman. She'd been savage. _Sexy._

It's a trick of the light.

Is she still the same then, here and now, in front of him, Duel Disk brandished like a blade on her arm, or is this a mirage?

_A trick of the light._

"It's been two years." She sounds the same. He doesn't speak.

She takes five steps, and he counts every one, the clicks of her heels on the pavement ringing in his ears. _It's the damn light. I'm hearing things now._

He makes out the details, watching her come closer and unable to tear his gaze away - her shoes are new, and she's not worn that dress in any of the magazines, and her eyes, and her hair -

_This is a trick, I said I'd forget her -_

He is the guilty party, the one who didn't sleep for days and the one who still hoped and the one who'd whispered her name too many times for someone who said they'd forget all about her. He thought she'd forgotten. He'd wanted them both to forget.

He had made that promise, a day after the last time he'd seen her. It had been sunset back then.

"Jounouchi." She says his name then. He wants to say hers. His throat is dry. Warm weather. The light -

"M-Mai." He says it out loud, voice stumbling and failing midway, as if he'd feared it. He'd promised to never say it again. He'd promised it once, then again, then twice more again, three times in one night, once more the day after…

The silence is foolish. They're both alone in worlds of their own, two steps apart, and one is on fire. He's seeing things, and hearing them, and it's all too good to be true -

He puts on a smile. "It has been two years."

A cloud moves behind them; it covers the sun. His mind is still swimming. A faint gust sweeps the pavement. Leaves dance.

She asks him for coffee and time.

He agrees to catch up.

He thinks of the passage of time. Two years. Today, a moment, at least. He'd grant her that time, regardless of anything. He'd lied. Twenty four months. To himself, he had lied.

He'd never forgotten. He couldn't, and hadn't. He'd said that he had. Promises, claims, absurd hopes.

_I want to forget her._

Tricks of the light.


End file.
